Transferred and cross-posted from AO3! Hopefully formatting won't get ruined.

Original Fic Author's Note: hi. i publish wips for a living. i've just made it my goal to publish everything i want to work on, so i don't have any excuses not to actually work on them. yes, this is the kind of person i am.

abt the fic! the tags are as gratuitous as my love of the horcrux hunting trope. but they're all legit. no character bashing, no dark harry, no hadrian, no ridiculously evil tom, but no good tom, just regular old morally ambiguous 'i do what i want' tom. i'm trying with my heart and soul to keep this in character. drag me if i don't. i mean, nicely? ish? shit, uh. gently drag me.

it's sort of vaguely in the spirit of the books. i'm half brit, so it hasn't been brit picked, since i basically brit picked it myself. but i've been living in california for so long that "dude" is now officially the greatest word of all time, so drag me on that, too. if i add in an americanism, mischaracterise, miss the bar on grammar, or generally fuck up in any way, please do tell.

with those ridiculous disclaimers out of the way, i v much hope you enjoy! much love xx

It was quiet in the dorms at this hour. Nobody had reason to be awake, except Harry, who had spent the past hour unable to fall asleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he was haunted by the image of Tom Riddle, standing by the fireplace, twisting the ring on his finger, asking about Horcruxes.

Horcruxes. There was something fundamentally horrifying about the concept that set Harry's teeth on edge. That Voldemort had gone to such lengths to ensure his immortality, that seven pieces of his soul were just lying around somewhere, unseen for so many years, it only added to the confusion and mystery. And, to think, he still had no explanation whatsoever regarding their strange connection.

He just wanted answers. And he didn't want to have to resort to Liquid Luck and wine to get them.

With a sigh, he turned over and began to pick absently at a stray thread on the sheets. It wasn't calming enough to quell his rising frustration, but it did help a little. Maybe he should try meditation. Hermione seemed to think it would work as well as Dreamless Sleep, but she was the type to try bloody anything and be good at it. Chances were he'd be an awful meditator, and it didn't help that he'd completely forgotten how to do it, either.

Merlin, he'd already counted about two hundred sheep, and he'd used up the last of his precious supply of Dreamless Sleep yesterday. He was running out of options!

He groaned and brushed his fringe out of his eyes, fingers running over his aching scar. Half the time he couldn't tell if his headaches were from sleep deprivation or that exhausting, snake-faced git. He'd bet hundreds of Galleons Voldemort was doing it on purpose. It was likely he knew about the connection, after all. It wasn't exactly something you could just overlook. Honestly, if he just knew why it was there in the first place. He didn't think that was supposed to be one of the side effects of Avada Kedavra. Then again, most people were too busy suffering from the main side effect, namely a complete end to their existence, to be documenting any other results.

This was going nowhere. With a brief Lumos, he grabbed at the Calming Draught in his bedside table, and hoped that, coupled with the leftover Felix Felicis, it might allow him some calm, refreshing rest. Even if it was a bit of a pipe dream.

He opened his eyes and found himself in a room he didn't recognise. Certainly it wasn't the one he'd gone to sleep in. For one, everything about it frankly screamed "insanely wealthy", even if the furnishings seemed a little lacklustre and faded with age. In fact, the entire room had an aged quality about it, save for a small door in the corner, which reminded Harry terrifyingly of the entrance to his little cupboard under the stairs.

"Ah, I see you've made it at last." He'd recognise that voice anywhere, even if it did sound a little mellower somehow, a little resigned.

Harry whipped around. At first, he saw nothing but the moth-bitten curtains, floating in a breeze that came from windows bolted shut, until a figure slowly made its way out of the shadows. There, in all his glory, stood Tom Riddle, looking precisely like he did all those years ago in the Chamber of Secrets. In fact, the only difference Harry could discern was in the boy's eyes. His left was its usual unsettling scarlet, but his right matched Harry's perfectly, making him look like some kind of absurd Christmas decoration.

"Did you Apparate me here, Voldemort?" Harry spat. "Listen, if you think I'm going to let you manipulate me like Professor Slughorn, well... you've got another thing coming!"

It wasn't a particularly threatening retort, and Riddle simply raised an eyebrow. "I'm not here to hurt you, Harry. Quite the opposite, in fact. I wish to help you."

"Help me?" Harry asked. He really hadn't taken that much Felix Felicis, had he? Professor Slughorn surely wouldn't have given him more than was absolutely necessary. Then again, he had chugged down a whole bottle's worth. Maybe that'd been a little hasty.

So hasty his luck had drained over into negative numbers. Hell, infinities.

"Yes, help you. You've been wanting answers as of late, and I'm here to give them to you."

"What? How'd you know that?" Harry was almost positive long distance Legillimency wasn't actually a thing. Then again, Voldemort seemed the type to take impossibility and bend it to his will through sheer, wildly insane determination.

"I'm a part of you, Harry, as I always have been. Everything you know, I know."

Well, that didn't seem good. At all. Was this a version of Voldemort closer to the diary? A Horcrux ghost? "Then why aren't I dead?"

"Simply because I don't want you to be." Riddle pursed his lips. "Well, one seventh of me doesn't want you to be. I can't speak for the other six."

"That's helpful," Harry said, dry.

"I don't blame you for your confusion, Harry," said Riddle, with mock gentleness. "After all, I have it on good faith that my main incarnation hasn't quite figured it out yet himself."

Harry smirked, which was probably reckless and stupid, but he was a Gryffindor, so he hoped that he got a free pass. "Did you just admit tonot knowing something?"

"If one seventh of me knows it, does that count?" Riddle smirked right back. "Then again, it would be hard for me not to know it, as I live it every day."

He sighed, longsuffering. "Could you possibly be any more vague?"

"To put it simply, Harry, I am the Horcrux I never meant to make."

"But you're part of me, you said." Harry blinked. "I think I'd know if I had one of your Horcruxes."

Riddle's hauntingly familiar gaze softened slightly, and he smiled, small and tight. "Oh, Harry, you aren't in possession of a Horcrux, you are the Horcrux. And I am the manifestation of that Horcrux, Harry."

Harry's world flipped upside down and then back up again, leaving him reeling. He felt sick, and scared, and dizzy like he'd had too much to drink, and then it was quiet. So quiet. "You're lying!" he accused. "You can't trick me like you did everyone else, Voldemort. I'm not going to fall for it."

"It's the only explanation worth considering," Riddle said simply. "Avada Kedavra was not intended to form connections, Harry. You've had enough experience with Unforgivables to understand its sole use. Nothing else accounts for all the parallels between us, or our shared traits."

Harry crumpled, landing gracelessly into the nearest chair. "Merlin, you're not lying, are you?"

"No, I'm not lying. I won't lie to you." Riddle sighed. "For what it's worth, the presence of another soul alongside my own for so many years seems to have restored my sanity."

"Oh, well that's very reassuring, thank you." Harry grinned, but it felt wrong in his mouth. "You have a piece of Voldemort inside you, Harry, but great news! He's actually relatively sane and well-adjusted! Be glad at least part of him's not still trying to kill you!"

Riddle scowled. "I don't have to help you. In fact, I was perfectly content to sit back and watch as my other half took over Wizarding Britain. I could just as easily go back and leave you alone for another sixteen years."

"So what changed your mind?"

"Pardon me?"

"Why'd you even come out in the first place, if you were just going to piss off again?"

"To put it frankly, I was a little put off by my own madness. I was afr- concerned that I would slip, allow myself to become too reckless. The thrill of power, the sense of fulfilling one's own insatiable bloodlust..." Riddle trailed off at this, expression becoming just a little too dreamy, and Harry allowed himself a shudder. Then, Riddle cleared his throat, and the hunger in his eyes settled once more. "I do tend to get carried away, you see."

"So you want to help me, what, fix Voldemort's mind?" Harry narrowed his eyes. "How the hell do you plan to do that?"

"By restoring my soul," Riddle replied casually. "Well, most of it. We need only gather the remaining Horcruxes in one place and recite a simple incantation, which should essentially bind them to my counterpart once more. You, as my Horcrux, have the power to do this. I suppose I should count myself lucky, and tell you how very grateful I am, but I'm not certain we'll be able to pull it off, you see. Not when saddled with you."

"But the diary and the ring are already gone. And, wouldn't that bind us together too? No offence, but I don't particularly want to be bound to your scaley arse any more than I already am. Actually, I take that back. I do mean offence. What's this about being saddled with me?"

"Yes, well. The pieces of my soul that were in those objects will only return to me upon the event of my... passing." Riddle spat out the word like poison. "However, the others will readily fuse together. Our connection will remain, however. I leave rather the lasting impression."

He'd figured as much. Well, he'd survived sixteen years with it, and they hadn't been too terrible. Magic was more than enough to make up for a childhood in a cupboard. "Will those five be enough?"

"Of course."

"Alright. I'll help you," Harry agreed. Better a sane Voldemort, one that could be reasoned with, than the maniac he was faced with now. "But won't you be mortal?"

"I have hope your existence will negate that. But in the event that all my Horcruxes are eradicated, even my presence in your soul, there are indeed other ways to achieve immortality, ways which do not require the sacrifice of one's own sanity." Riddle smiled slyly. "Or good looks."

He rolled his eyes. "Fair enough. How do we stay in contact? Uh, well, I can't exactly owl you, can I?"

"Unlike the Diary Horcrux, I am strong enough to appear to you at will. If you ask for me, I will be there."

"Great, alright." Harry yawned. "I'll be getting to bed then. Where are we exactly?"

"A figment of your imagination, so to speak. A shared dreamscape. Think about leaving and you will leave."

"Cheers, Tom." Harry saluted him, and the world faded to white.

He woke up in bed, bottle of Calming Draught still in hand.

Merlin, his life was completely mental.

Chapter 1 Author's Note: There are more chapters written! I will get round to self-betaing them. Maybe I'll beg my Beta, who's not in the fandom, to come and work endlessly for me anyway, because I'm a cruel, merciless empty husk of a human being. Who will work my Beta like a dog if she agrees to it ;;a;;;. shakyhades pls fix my shit help i accidentally another fic again i'LL PAY YOU by writing more hella gay shit for you i swear

also! added note! tom being a little shit will be explained. i know that's not precisely fitting of his character, considering he was supposed to act v pleasant and charming, but i have an explanation for it. that's in the next chapter. uh. shit that wasn't v well planned.